Tension Headache and Migraine
by JuHuaTai
Summary: As the First Mate of Whitebeard Pirates, Marco has a lot of responsibility. Sometimes, they all get to him at the same time. In the end, he's still human after all.
1. Chapter 1

(Why is that title so me right now)

Hello yes i am sure you are sick of me, but i am here with another pwp (kinda, because they pwp is in chapter 2) because i still have writer's block and cannot deal with real life right now. I think in a way i'm kind of channelling myself into this fic, hence this very non pwp first chap. Ha.. ha?

A comment on one of my fics got me thinking, and while this is probably not what they had in mind, it gave me muse nonetheless. You'd find out what i mean on the next chap, i guess, but i'm pretty sure my tag already gave it away somehow.

So uh, sorry for yet another story and hope you'd enjoy...?

* * *

Even after he left the infirmary, ignoring the old doctor's sympathetic glances, Marco still feel suffocated.

The news about Pops' declining health wasn't new - in fact, it's been like this for years now - but it seems that as time goes by there was nothing they can do to improve it. Medicines and treatments could only go so far, and no matter how much they're supposedly make him better, none of them ever do. Every week, the report always seems bleak, the doctor regretful for the temporary relief he can give their captain and it took all of Marco's entire being not to throw tantrum, unable to accept reality like a child would knowing their father is slowly fading away.

But he wanted to, oh so much.

He leaned against the now closed door, wanting to massaged the growing migraine on the top left of his temple, but he could hear footsteps coming and know there will be people here soon. It won't do good for the ship's morale if he goes around all downtrodden like this, so the blonde commander took a deep breath before straightening his back away from the wooden surface. He walked away just in time as 3 crew member pass him by, giving them a quiet greeting when they saluted him.

Once they were far enough, Marco let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair and made his way over to the deck. He needs to go over to Kingdew, to coordinate their next stop in the big port town on the edge of West Blue. There, they could hopefully replenish Pops' medicines and other medical necessities, as the doctor also added as a footnote before he left.

What else is there? He quietly mused, head running through his list of objectives for today. Ah yes, completing the ledger for this month's expenditure, collecting every division's report, overseeing the progress of the restoration on the workshop - that's the last time he's going to allow Fossa and Rakuyo do any unsupervised and unreported experiments ever again - start a report on the ship's supplies, prepare a scouting team for recon on that new Eternal Pose Jiru's division found from their latest exploits, go and check the— Oh wait, did he already make a list on the recon group yesterday?

Marco never get the chance to finish recalling whether or not that list existed when he arrived on the deck and was soon accosted by a jittery crew member that he only vaguely recall was one of the new recruits in Atmos' division, "C-commander Marco! We just got word that a couple of marine ships are spotted northeast from us and is advancing,"

That's barely anything new and nothing to be so concerned about, but then, this is a new recruit. They over exaggerate everything, "Anything else?"

"Yes, Commander! One of the ships seems to have an Admiral on board. Admiral Aokiji, sir,"

Fuck. Okay, maybe not that good.

Still, saying that in front of this obviously panicking man is not a good idea, "Get second and third division's commanders to be on standby. They'll be our first line of defense,"

The man - boy really, since he estimate him to be barely older than Ace - scurried away, shouting his orders. How energetic.

Once crew members and commanders began to take up arms, Marco transformed himself to his Phoenix form and flew up high, reaching the crow's nest where he saw Curiel watching the incoming armada through a long telescope. The helmet wearing man gave him an acknowledging nod, relaying the coordinates through the Mini Denden Mushi in his hand to the people below before turning to Marco, "There's 6 ship all together, 2 of them advancing faster. They're ram ships,"

Marco gave him a nod, "On it," and with that, he left in a blur of blue and yellow.

Ram ships were designed to attack first by ramming it to the hull of the enemy ship, and those are the ones with the least defense as well. As proven the moment he hovers above them, there's nothing stopping him from picking out one marine at a time, throwing them off to the sea to be picked out later by Sea Kings and sinking the entire ship after puncturing through the persistent ship captain. The second ship had put up a bit more of a fight, after seeing the sister ship's fate, but it was rather stress relieving to see the cocky commodore turning pale at the realization that bullets cannot even touch Marco.

Defeating and sinking marine ships were easy, but Aokiji was a different matter entirely. Marco returned to Moby to find him on board and parrying Jozu and Ace's attacks, dodging one of Ace's full powered fire punch with ease and sending a blow to the newly minted Commander's middle as retaliation. One of the Admiral's arms turned into ice, and he was about to deliver another blow to Ace when Marco landed just between them, kicking him away from his fallen comrade.

It was blocked, he had expected no less from Aokiji, but his arrival caused the afro haired Admiral to raise a brow, "Hmm? 3 against one? Hardly fair, is it?"

Behind him, Marco could see Ace dusting himself off and standing up, grunting at his own carelessness, but before he can attack again, Marco halted him by raising an arm in front of him, "It was 6 against 1 to your favour earlier," he told the man, glancing back to the other side of the ship, where he heard Curiel's cannon exploding and found one of the marine ships downed, "Ah, well, at least ship-wise, we're even now,"

Aokiji pursed his lips in displeasure, "My new sun chair was on that one,"

"Won't reimburse you for it,"

"Ah, no need, it was kind of stiff and the tanning table wasn't even installed right. Never trust too eager salesmen,"

"That so? I'll keep that in mind next time i'm out shopping,"

"Uh, hello?!" Ace yelled impatiently, one arm already flaming as he looked bewilderedly between Marco and Aokiji, gaining both men's attention, "We were fighting just now?"

On their opposite side, the afro haired admiral rubbed his head, still flatly watching his own men drown inside of the downed ship, "Eeh, don't feel like it anymore. There's more of you now, and i need to take some of those men back so they can do their report. Or else, Sengoku will make me do it," he curled his lips in disgust, as if the prospect of doing reports of all things was something extremely taxing. Marco guessed there is something marines and pirates alike have in common, "Also, i need to shop for a new sun chair. Don't suppose you'll let me go?"

Ace looked at him as if the man has lost his head, "Are you crazy? You attacked us first and you want us to—"

"Just don't leave anymore mess on your way out," Marco waved him off, already inspecting the damage on Moby's side. There doesn't seem much to the ship, but there are wounded men around and as the doctor has said earlier, they're running quite low on medical supplies. Shit, he'd have to look for a new destination to dock soon and change course. Hopefully Kingdew won't be too preoccupied, "You got your bike or is that in the same ship as your sun chair?"

"Marco, what the fuck—"

"Not to worry, the old girl's durable, i bet she's fine," As he uttered that, the Admiral started to walk away towards the ship's edge, aiming his arms down to made a pathway using his ice before climbing up the rails. He paused briefly, before glancing over back to them, "Say, Phoenix, that kick was rather weak. You not getting enough sleep or something?"

At this point, Marco didn't need to turn to see that Ace is seething, so he puts a hand down on a literally fiery shoulder and lets his own flame flare up to protect him from the heat, "Not everyone can sleep at the drop of hat, Admiral. It's called working, i bet old Sengoku would love for you to know that word,"

The Admiral hummed in bemusement, "True. But then there's also the word 'overworking'," at this, his eyes glint knowingly, "You may want to be careful there. Anything could happen if a man of your position is not alert,"

"Are you seriously threatening us, you—"

"I'll keep that in mind," He gripped Ace's shoulder even tighter, preventing the young commander from advancing, "You might wanna make your exit soon though, don't think my men will leave any of yours left to do your report at this stage,"

"That's what i get for sailing with a bunch of rookies," The Admiral sighed before jumping off, effectively disappearing from their sight. It didn't take long until there's another series of ruckus and the announcement that the marines are retreating, and as the sound of celebration began to pick up, Marco made his way over, his mind running through the damages he saw earlier.

He didn't get very far, when Ace's voice reached him again, "Why'd you stop me? Jozu and i almost had him,"

The migraine on the side of his head began to increase in size. It always does whenever Ace started to sound that indignant, "No, you don't, he was toying with you. Any seconds later he could've actually hurt you,"

"I'm a logia, he can't—"

"And he is too, what's your point?" Ace still looked indignant, but he's silent now, frown deepening in that way they always did whenever he's angry about something but couldn't think of any further argument to make his case. Before he can find one, Marco immediately added, "Go check up on your division and do a head count. You too, Jozu. Need to find Kingdew and change course of our sail,"

With a harsh scoff, Ace stomped away, but at least he seems to be doing what he was told. Jozu has yet to move, however, and when he did, it was to turn to Marco from silently watching the direction where Aokiji had disappeared to, "Is he right?"

Marco paused, and shrugged. He didn't need this right now, and rather disliked Aokiji's observation, "Anyone who didn't sleep at least once every hour is working too hard for him. Between him and Garp, it's a wonder Sengoku hasn't develop his first white hair,"

He left before Jozu can say anything else. He wished he didn't look like he's running away, but Marco knew he didn't fool the other man a single bit.

* * *

That night, Marco felt like he had closed his eyes forever, but when he glanced at the time, he knew he had only laid down for 5 minutes tops.

He tried to sleep again, but his body won't cooperate, running thoughts after calculations through his brain non-stop. The ledger had been imbalanced once he was done with it, meaning that either someone's report was incorrect or someone had been untrustworthy, and the infirmary was indeed out of supplies, yet the nearest island he could find was a day away. Right now, there's a couple of men who has only been treated minimally, and the nurses told him they can only hope those men won't develop infection until the can be treated properly.

At least with this attack, the expedition for the new Eternal Pose's location had to be halted for a while, and that had been Pops' direct order. Marco still can't shake off the feeling he had done the list for the recon group, but Jiru told him he hadn't been told or receive anything.

With a sigh, he quickly disentangled himself from the sheet and Ace's arm, carefully so he won't wake the younger - then again, Ace sleeps deeper than the dead sometimes. True enough, his jostling had only made the dark haired youth to turn around in his sleep with a grunt, now facing away from him with his back and Pops' jolly rogers tattoo stark against the white sheet. His earlier disgruntlement about Aokiji was still present when he came in, but it seems minimal at best and only because he didn't get to finish off the Admiral.

Chuckling softly, Marco leaned back to press a kiss to the back of his head before retrieving his shirt from the foot of the bed, and some reports he wanted to double check on. With one last glance to the bed and Ace's figure, he made his way out.

There's hardly anyone out this late at night, exempting the night guards and lookouts. They seemed quite confused to see him wandering about but greeted him nonetheless, some even made a small talk asking if there's a problem they can help with. The sentiment was nice, but Marco waved them off to go back to their post, before making his way over to the treasury. Out of everything not in order right now, the ledger is his topmost priority, considering that there will be another large purchase to the island tomorrow.

He spent hours there, counting bellis and matching up account books after account books, and as the sunrise hits the small window on top of the small window above the room and his lantern died, he finally matched things up. With great relief he found that there hasn't been any mutiny or dishonesty going on under his nose, but it was with some degree of frustration that he berated himself for miscalculating for days on end. He never made that sort of mistakes before, what could've happened if he hadn't caught himself.

Stretching his stiff back, Marco made his way out only to nearly collide with Rakuyo on his way out. The bandanna wearing commander quirked his brow, glancing from him, to the ledger in his hand and to the burnt out lantern in the other, "Have you… been here all night?"

Marco shrugged, thinking that it must be even later than he thought if Rakuyo is already on his way to work, "I made some counting mistake. Need to fix it before we land and buy supplies,"

His fellow commander scoffed, "You, made a mistake? Get real," he grinned, but the smile slowly grew dim, "Hey, you sure you're okay?"

"Peachy," he muttered, "Why?"

The flail-slinging commander looked apprehensive at first, "Heard from Ace you've been to bed late the last couple of days, and seems like you weren't even in bed at all last night. Said he woke up alone this morning,"

A pang of guilt ran across Marco's chest. He and Ace had a habit of spending a couple of minutes in bed in the morning or just before they sleep, just to spend some time together since their daily responsibility hardly gave them time for each other at any other time of the day. But it's true that for the past days he had come in to his room to see Ace already passed out, despite the obvious attempts to stay up to wait for him.

The blonde wiped his hand through his face, sighing, "I'll apologize to him later during breakfast,"

"Breakfast is already over. We didn't see you at all,"

"Lunch then,"

Rakuyo gave him a doubtful stare, but stay quiet as Marco passed by and left the treasury.

With the ledger taken care of, he thought that it's one worry off his mind, until he barely reached his next destination - the navigation room, to see how far they are from their destination - when Fossa approached him, "We're out of wood for repairing the damage from yesterday. A cannonball got through and left a hole up in the observatory,"

Fuck, their next destination could at least guarantee more general items like medical supplies, but the materials for reparations are much more specific, "Is it that urgent to repair it now? We won't be reaching another port for at least 4 days,"

"The roof not so much, but there's a hole on the flooring. We managed to support it up now, but f we leave it any longer, it might cave in to the lower floors and that's where some of the barracks were placed,"

Marco felt more migraine coming his way, "Have that place evacuated first in case it really does cave in, and i'll see what i can do about our route. Worse comes to worst, i'll have to send out a squad to buy the supplies we needed for the wounded while we change course," He hated out of plan circumstances like this, but then, they had been sailing for far longer than usual. Their latest exploits in Grand Line had been a big news, after all, and they can't land on just any ports that they don't have allies in with the marines on high alert for them. Aokiji's attack yesterday had been one of the examples of said alertness.

And as if it wasn't enough, the moment he arrived to the quarterdecks, his own division had a bad news for him, "Seems like there's storm coming our way, Commander. Maybe it is best that we land and lay low on the upcoming island,"

Storm. The roof of the observation is damaged and the water would surely seep in to the broken floorings, "If it's storming, then we need to purchase more wood and materials for the shipwrights to fix the observation deck,"

His right hand man gave him an apologetic look while pointing at the map, "Well, they'd have to find some other way to contain that. We won't have enough time to leave to the port town and arrive before the storm hits,"

The messenger he had to send this new over to Kingdew and Fossa's division and the helmsmen came back with Kingdew and Fossa themselves in tow, frowning at each other and making a beeline to Marco, "Look, we need to get those supplies too, that roof isn't going to last long if there's a storm coming," the cigar smoking commander said the moment he entered the navigation room, his posture and Kingdew's signing that they had been arguing for a while, "Why can't you just bring us over from this island and to the port town? The storm's still days away,"

"Because this island had goddamn coral reefs around it and navigating through that without making _your_ work harder is difficult," the robust blonde commander retorted, before turning to Marco, "He kept insisting we should keep on sailing to the port town for his materials. I can't bring us to two different places that fast, especially when Moby's damaged,"

"We don't have enough space to move the boys on the top barracks. If that roof cave in because of the storm, that's more things to fix than just the roof and the flooring and it'll take more time,"

"Then put a tarp on the roof or something, i've seen you do it before,"

The speed of which Fossa's cigar began to burn was a testament to his temper, "You think it's that easy?! What do you know about keeping up this ship's maintenance?"

"As much as you do how i helm the ship, apparently!"

The entire navigation table and the crew surrounding it jumped as Marco slammed his fist on the top, making quills and ink bottles jump along with other tools and a log pose to almost roll out to the floor, "Enough! You two are acting like kids," he berated, "Fossa, i know we need to fix the roof quickly, but we have wounded men down in the infirmary that needs the medical supplies we're getting from this island," Plus, they need to buy more medicines for Pops because they need to raise his dosage since he's getting worse, but he's not telling them that, not when the atmosphere is this tense, "We'll land on this island and dock for a while, alright? We'll move some of the crew over to the inn until the storm pass and see if we can find anything for a temporary fix,"

Then he turned to Kingdew, noting brief gloating on his features and felt slightly irritated by it. This isn't supposed to be a contest, this is they life and wellbeing of their ship and crew, "Kingdew, you and your men better keep your word to not cause any damage to Moby on your way to dock. The moment the storm pass, you are to bring us out and to the next port town," he glared at the two, mouth pulling into a scowl, "Now for fuck's sake, stop acting like kids and be an adult. You guys are commanders, what kind of example do you think you're making to your men?"

It took a while, but finally, the two commanders nodded, murmuring their agreement and apologies before finally leaving, hopefully to do what they are told and not to bicker some more.

Once they were out of sight, the side of Marco's temple suddenly throbbed and he hunched down, groaning. It's the adrenaline, he told himself, because even if fights and disagreement like that wasn't uncommon in such a big ship, right now, they're at quite the predicament, several of them in fact.

He waved off his right hand man's quiet question about his wellbeing, and trusted them to know what to do next. In the mean time, he needs to tell the doctor that they're nearing their destination and collect the list of items to purchase.

In the midst of managing the situation in the infirmary, Marco forgoes lunch, and didn't remember until he realized he also forgoes dinner.

He came back to his bedroom that night to Ace already asleep again, sitting at his work desk with a full plate next to him. It was obviously meant for Marco, according to the small note on the side from Thatch, scolding him for not coming to eat anything for the day, for working too much and that as a chef, he felt slightly insulted. There's even a footnote there that said he better make sure Ace didn't eat any of it, and judging from the lack of traces of food on the younger's lips, he had been obedient.

Marco carried Ace to the bed, letting him roll over in his sleep after he was laid down, and ate as much as he felt like eating. He barely had half of it before he decided to leave it, and crawl to bed right behind his slumbering lover.

He opened his eyes to see that he barely slept a wink again. The blonde dressed himself up, reach over for his list and reports, and started another sleepless night of working.

* * *

The island was an uncharted one on the map, due to how small it is, and only reachable by an Eternal Pose. It was also one of the smaller areas under Whitebeard Pirates' protection, and that at least, ensure some safety for them. Buying supplies for the infirmary was easy, even if there's less items than Marco's comfortable with, and to his relief, they managed to get everything they needed for Pops.

The old captain was asleep by the time he came over to deliver the new concoction, waving off the nurse's offer to deliver it instead. He hadn't checked on his captain in a while, and the sight of Whitebeard slowly opening his eyes in a hazy and bleary way gave the blonde a sense of bittersweet melancholy.

Yet, after he finished listening to Marco's various reports of their current situation and after taking his medicine, instead of giving orders, he frowned and asked in a sombre tone, "Are you alright, my boy?"

Marco paused from his reading of the amount of wounded crew, "Well, obviously. None of the commanders were injured - at least, if you don't count Ace's pride, somewhat - and the crew members got their treatment now—"

"I don't mean about this attack," the older, larger man cuts off, expression turning even more concerned, "I mean you. You look tired, Marco,"

He huffed, looking back down to his report, "I'm fine, Pops. You got other things to worry about—"

"Son, i don't want you to overwork yourself—"

"I'm not, Pops, i'm fine. You have other things to worry about,"

Whitebeard seems like he wanted to argue more, but eventually relents, flicking his wrist in a gesture to tell him to continue with his report. Marco continued, ignoring the glances and concern practically shining from the old man's eyes.

When he finished his reports and was on his way out, the captain calls for him again, "This island is one of the safest in our territory," he rumbled lowly, "Why don't you go and tell everyone to have it easy while we're here? Have some time off, relax, maybe take Ace with you and go explore a little. The village is quite nice to take a stroll in,"

It would've been Whitebeard's more subtle jab to him, if it wasn't for the comment about Ace. Marco opened his mouth, wanting to tell him he still has a lot of work left for their eventual departure and journey to the port and reparations, but kept it to himself and nodded silently before leaving. Pops' words did sound nice, and he needs to make it up to Ace somehow. They hadn't seen much of each other lately, or even seen each other this last 2 days, let alone talk, so maybe he could—

He had just ascended the stairs from the captain's cabin when a crew member found him, and said in a grim tone, "Commander Marco, we have a problem over at our division. Commander Blamenco told me to come get you,"

So much for that idea.

* * *

That late night, none of Marco's duties brought him out of his quarters, only to his desk, with a dim lantern accompanying him and Ace's quiet snores.

The storm was brewing outside, coming much faster than their navigator and lookout had anticipated, and he already dreaded the reports tomorrow from Fossa's division about the wreckage up on the observatory. The worry had kept him from sleeping, and calm himself down he promptly write down the recon team for Jiru's expedition, still wondering why he felt like he had written it all down before.

He's already halfway through, still considering the distance between their current location and the area the eternal pose pointed to when he felt arms slithering down his shoulders. Marco jumped, heart leaping to his chest in his shock, and only calming down when he heard Ace's voice, "Oh, sorry, sorry, i thought you heard me,"

It didn't even register to him that the white noise that was Ace's snores was gone until the man himself was behind him, "It's fine. I was too deep in thought, i guess,"

The hand was back on his shoulders, kneading softly. He felt Ace's head on his shoulder, mumbling, "You haven't been sleeping for the last 2 days, Marco. Just leave it for tomorrow,"

The hands were pulling him gently, but the urging to get him back to bed was still there. It was tempting, especially with Ace's heat on his shoulders seeping out some of the tension, but he looked down on his list, to the stack of reports in front of his desk and knew he won't feel like sleeping again, "After i'm done with this one,"

But of course, Ace wouldn't listen to him. The younger man popped up in front of him, eyebrows creased in concern as he cupped the side of his face, "Marco, you look tired. You haven't been eating regularly, haven't been sleeping," his thumb ran down the patch of skin underneath Marco's eye, which made the older squeeze his eye shut and shook his head lightly, "You're starting to have eyebags too. Please just sleep for tonight. I'll help you with whatever it is tomorrow, okay?"

When Marco kept his silence, Ace sighed, turning his attention to the paper he had been scribbling on, "What are you working on, anyway? What's this list for—" he trailed off all of the sudden, squinting his eyes, "Oh hey, this is the same list,"

That caught Marco's attention, "What do you mean, same list?"

Ace looks alarmed, and that already made dread and irritation pool in the blonde's stomach, "Uh, s-same as the…," he bit his lower lips, lowering his eyes to avoid Marco's gaze, "T-the one that i… spilled on a couple of days ago?"

Marco could barely hear his voice's volume raising, "What?"

"I'm sorry! I was waiting for you, but then my narcolepsy hits and i spilled the water in my hand. I cleaned it all up, but that paper was already ruined and it's barely legible so i… i threw it away,"

"You threw—" He had done it! He had done it and the reason why it was gone wasn't because he had only imagined doing it because— The migraine was back in full force, and as Marco shouted, he felt eyes felt dazed, the sort of anger that gets to your head and made it spin, "Did it even occur to you that it might be important?! Why didn't you tell me?! It's important and i've been looking for that!"

"I did try to!" Ace defended, taking a step back with his eyes wide. He looked startled, as if he hadn't been expecting Marco to get this angry, "But you were always gone when i woke up, so i—"

"Then look for me! You have legs, don't you?! You all went out your way to look for me for every menial fucking things, but when it comes to the things i needed, you can't even be bothered to find and tell me?! Am i supposed to just know everything?!"

If possible, Ace looked even more shocked, though some parts of his attitude return with a small frown. Any other time, Marco would've thought it was cute, but right now, he felt headache coming and there was nothing but anger in his mind, "I did, okay? But i can never find you and i have my own duties to do—"

"What the fuck do you think i'm doing then, Ace? Kick back and relax?! And you can't find me?! Everyone in this goddamn place doesn't seem to have a fucking problem to!"

Even with the loud and thundery storm outside, there is no telling that his voice hadn't reached other rooms. But as Marco stood up and kicked his chair back, all rationality, all thoughts of calming down to be more considerate to other people sleeping in the ship or even that Ace looked actually apologetic didn't even cross his mind, "In the span of time i kept worrying about this list, i could've been thinking about other things! Because you know what, when you're me, you don't get to stop thinking!"

He didn't even notice that his shouts has moved away from Ace and the apparently ruined list, nor did he realize the look on Ace's face. In the moment he took to slam his palm on his desk and shouting even more, he didn't realize Thatch and Jozu, the two with their rooms closest to theirs had burst into the room, bleary eyed and confused, "I don't have time to be worried about you unable to agree with someone about how you do your fucking job, i don't have time for stupid mistakes, i don't have time to be worried over you wanting to kick the ass of someone's stronger than you and probably ended up getting hurt because none of you are apparently capable to sit back and fucking think for yourselves!"

He slammed his hand down again, cutting his palm on the edge and making Thatch on the doorway yelp. The cut heals instantly, but his anger has yet to dissipate, "You all kept asking 'Marco, are you okay?' No, i'm not fucking okay! Pops is getting sicker! We're being hunted down by marines harder than usual! Moby's top half is probably going to crash down because of this fucking storm! All of that, and you think i'm fucking okay?! You think i have the time to sleep?! So i'm _so_ sorry Ace, for having some fucking responsibility and choosing to do that instead of being in bed with you because apparently, that's the only place where i'll find out who's been fucking up my work!"

Marco realized how vindictive he sounded by the end, but he barely cared. His throat felt raw because of all of the screaming, his eyes hurt and his head is spinning from how high his blood pressure must've risen during his tirade.

But as it all slowly wore down, he began to notice other things. Like the crowd that was now gathering in front of his door, behind a wide eyed Thatch and Jozu, a collection of commander and crew members alike, and that Ace's posture has turned stiff, with his head bowed down, making it hard to see his face. His shoulders hunched, and they were shaking slightly, just like his balled hands.

Without any warning, Ace suddenly turned on his heels and pushed past the group of men, walking and disappearing in the crowd. Thatch followed after him after an apprehensive glance to Marco, calling after him until his voice faded in the middle of the hall. It left Marco panting in his own quarters, eye wild and heart thumping on his chest, staring uncomprehending at the people in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, he flicked his wrist to their general direction, "Leave me alone,"

No one moved. Not a single muscle.

 _"I said fucking leave me alone!"_

In an instant, his doorway was vacated. Just as they dispersed, he caught sight of Fossa and Kingdew from the back of the crowd, glancing at each other before turning their silent gazes to Marco. The door was closed on their faces, and as it made a clicking sound, he slumped back down to his desk, slamming his chair back in place and burying his head in between his hands. Marco pulled on his hair harshly from both direction, letting out a strangled cry.

He stayed in that position until morning comes, when the storm brewing outside has slowly turned calm once more.

* * *

Stress relief in the form of writing fics is probably not on my therapist's list of recommended hobby to distract myself, and yet its working great for my health as a whole. Or maybe it's just the placebo effect on works.

Let's hope it's gonna be one of my fics that's updated next instead of a new story, shall we?

Sorry for rambling. Hope you liked it!


	2. Chapter 2

Pwp means without plot. Why suddenly many plot?

Oh well, adding one more chapter because here's the plot resolution before the porn part, i suppose.

Um, hope you'd like it?

* * *

In the end, it ended up not being a big deal.

The list, even before Ace had thrown it away, had been incomplete, since he hadn't sorted out the logistics of the expedition once they found out they were being chased by marines. It had been too risky to send out anyone at that situation, so he had only gone to tell Jiru to be ready once they're out of the radar again and that had been it. He even remembered writing out a memo before he was disturbed by the explosion that Fossa and Rakuyo's attempt to create new weaponries had created.

As Marco remembered it, he balled the paper he had been writing on and throws it away at a random direction behind him. The soft thud told him it probably landed on the bed.

He tried to read the report in front of him again, making sense of Izou's Wano-influenced handwriting, and came out blank. It said something about engine maintenance, he's sure, but whatever it was trying to explain escaped him. He kept finding himself glancing away, distracted, eyes roaming around the now silent bedroom and distantly, the tip-tapping of footsteps outside of the door and on the floor above his head.

Marco recognized the tightening in his chest as guilt; he had since he read the newly written list for the 50th time and realized that it's an exact replica of the one that went missing and there was nothing he could think of to add to it. It's an incomplete list, that wasn't even due for who knows how long, and for that, he had raged at Ace in front of a lot of people and subsequently, to those people as well.

Usually, there will be someone looking for him around this time of the day. Right now he's not even surprised that no one has.

A couple of minutes passed, and he still couldn't think straight. With a groan, he collected Izou's report, as well as several others he has yet to review and made his way out.

The deck was dead silent the moment he stepped out and people saw him. Every pair of eyes seems to struggle about continuing to work or looking at him, and some even frantically goes to do whatever it is their task was twice as fast, only to stumble and fail along the way. One poor soul let out a yelp after he dropped a heavy cargo on to his feet, and the look of panic his friend gave him would've been comical any other time if it wasn't so goddamn depressing.

Still it's not like he can say anything, so Marco pointedly ignored them, making his way towards the quarterdeck. The ship wasn't as crowded as usual, due to the fact that they already docked on an island, and several groups has been moved to the village's inn to accomodate the observation area's destruction. When he glanced up, he saw that the roof had been covered sloppily yet strategically by some leftover woods and coverage, probably in an attempt to keep as many water away as possible. It was definitely a lot more sophisticated than the tarps like Kingdew had suggested.

People are milling about into and out of the ship, carrying what he'd guess to be other essential supplies they need for the ship. On the very bottom of the ascension bridge, he saw Vista, Atmos and Thatch, huddled together over a small list, all the while directing the crew members around a stack of crates that they kept bringing up on board.

Marco raised the stack of papers to his mouth and gripped them with his teeth, before transforming his arms into wings in a burst of blue and yellow flames. He goes airborne and made a flip, landing down just on the edge of the waters and right next to the crates. The moment they turned to him, all chatters died immediately. Thatch looked almost stiff, watching his every move, while Atmos turned his gaze demurely and Vista's mouth shut with a click of his jaw. Even the crew members seems a lot more tense at his arrival, ducking their heads down as they quicken their pace, probably not wanting to be anywhere near him.

He wanted to say something, to explain himself, but just watching their behaviour suddenly made him tired. He didn't want to deal with this even though he knows he needs to if he wanted to return to a normal working condition, but he's actually tired. Exhausted even.

So instead, he turned to the crates, and asked, "What are these?"

Nobody answered him for a while. Finally, Thatch was the one who piped up, "Some materials for Fossa. We found some on the woods nearby, and the villager allows us to chop with them. It's not as good as the ones we'll get from an actual ship company, but he said it'll do until then,"

And that's all anyone wanted to say to him. Marco stared at the three commanders, all who turned apprehensive at even looking at him, and decided to just nod instead of saying anything else.

He cross-checked several more things, trying to ignore how quiet the normally boisterous Vista's voice was or that Atmos hasn't said a single word, and only focusing on doing his job right. When it was all finally done, he ticked out the three of their reports from his mental to-do list, and shuffled the papers to the very back of the stack.

The blonde was about to fly away again, when Thatch's voice suddenly reached him, "Why didn't you tell us?"

Marco paused his flap, turning one wing back into his arm to take the papers out of his mouth, "Tell you?"

"About Pops getting worse," the cook explained, his lips set into a firm line, "About his medicines, about… about anything! Why didn't you tell us you were stressed out?"

"I'm not stressed ou—"

"Bullshit," The 4th Division Commander cuts him off, "You don't blow up like that over nothing, i've known you for 2 decades, Marco. I know you don't get mad, the same way i know you'll never admit it when things are getting too much for you,"

Behind him, Vista nodded, tipping the rim of his head lower to conceal part of his face.

Atmos was less animated than the two, but eventually, he murmured, "And you never would've say things like that to anyone, much less Ace,"

Ace. At the reminder, Marco bit his lower lip, ignoring the stutter in his chest. He hadn't seen him around, though to be fair, he hadn't seen much of the other commanders, but he expected to at least find Ace roaming about. He shook off the thought; he'd deal with that later. Right now, he still has morning rounds to do, "I… I didn't mean to be that angry. I'll talk to him later,"

Thatch was beginning to say something else, but he quickly shoved the papers back into his mouth - ignoring that in his hurry he may have left some spittle on it - and flew back to the deck. Even as he walked away, he can hear the cook calling for his name, and decided to ignore it before making his way up to the observatory.

He didn't have time to deal with them.

He just… didn't.

* * *

As night descended upon them, Marco found himself still with plenty to do as per usual, but at least he had ticked off a considerable amount of things off his list. Nobody tried to stop him today for a quick social chat, unlike usual, and there's an even more blatant lack of crew and commander looking for him to discuss something. Everyone had been quiet and efficient, and though Marco's more effective side likes it better like this, the other side of him felt… wrong. Guilty.

He remembered lunch, but forgoes it in his own choice, deciding to spend the afternoon inspecting the construction Fossa and his division had installed to prevent any further damage to the observatory roof. There will be another storm tonight, according to the navigating team, and the shipwrights had assured him that with their supply replenished, it should be able to withstand it as well. The same goes for the infirmary, where several wounded crew were still laid down. They were a bit more chatty to him, and some even remarked that he looked rather pale, and Marco decided they hadn't heard the news like everyone else not confined to the bed.

When night time falls, he had only finished talking to Haruta, who was jumpy and had his eyes wandering around in an attempt to not look at Marco at all, when the young Commander murmured, "You could've rely on us,"

Marco paused from writing down his approval on the brunet's report, "Sorry?"

Again, the petite swordsman ducked his head down, but when he lifted his face again, it held a small but present frown, "I said, you could've rely on us a bit more. We're not here to make things inconvenient for you, we're here because we're also Pops' sons and we help run the ship just as much as you do,"

The stack in Marco's hand drooped down slightly, ignored, "I never said any of you were an inconvenience,"

"You might as well," the brunet bit, crossing his arms and looking upset, "You didn't tell us that Pops is sick, you didn't tell us you needed help. Just like how you're not omnipresent, we aren't too, you know. When you keep saying you're okay when you're not, how are we supposed to know what to help with?"

The blonde didn't reply.

"You… you're so selfish sometimes, you know that, Marco? We also want to know how Pops is doing and worry about him like kids should be to their father. We also want to know how things are doing on Moby, both good and bad. And more importantly, we want to know about how you're holding up. We know it's never easy for you, that's why we tried our best to pick up your slacks,"

Haruta glanced up, pursing his lips, "You felt responsible for Pops and everyone, we get it, but… but we're here for you too, you know?"

At Marco's silence, he sighed, "Thatch made your favorite for dinner tonight, he told me earlier. You can just.. leave those for one meal, can't you? It's still going to be there once you're done," he gestured to the papers in Marco's hand, and after a few moment, added, "And Ace should be back to the ship by then. He went to village today, something about wanting to apologize and make it up to you,"

Marco kept his silence even as Haruta walk away, leaving him all alone in the halls with his thoughts.

The bell was just rang high and loud from the dining area, signalling that dinner is ready, but it was muffled inside of Whitebeard's room, where Marco had holed himself up for the past 10 minutes.

The captain was peacefully slumbering, right about after he had his medicine, according to the attending doctor, as in the dark of night, he recalled the relieved smile on the man's face when he told Marco that Pops was reacting well to their new medicine. It contained some medicinal herbs from the same village up on this island, and he had kept a lot in the inventory as a precaution, in case for another long voyage where they couldn't come over to this very island again.

Marco should've written it down, to add it to his journey log and sail plans, but he hadn't done any of that. He had taken residence on one of the chairs near Pops' desk, and after a while, moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

Whitebeard looked peaceful, voice rumbling even in his sleep, and there's a telltale leftover of his medicine placed on his bedside table, along with a half finished tankard of water.

He let out a grumbling snore, muttering something from his dream, and Marco raised one hand to cover his face, as he took in a shuddering breath, the good news from the doctor finally dawning on him, "Thank goodness," he whispered, voice cracking mid-sentence, "Thank goodness,"

He stayed there, maintaining his posture as he tried to breathe through the unraveling tightness in his chest, that he missed it as the bed shifted and a massive hand was placed on top of his head. The blonde lowered his hands, just enough to be able to peek from behind his hand and found Whitebeard looking at him, eyes half opened and still rich with sleepiness. He looked down briefly, scratching his chest, and plopped his head back to his pillow, "What time is it? Felt like i've been asleep for a while,"

"Not that long, Pops," Marco replied, trying hard to keep the tremor out of his voice, "Hardly an hour,"

"And that's all an old man like me needed," the gigantic captain rumbled with laughter, ruffling Marco's head further, "Now how about you, son? When's the last time you've slept?"

Marco wanted to tell him that it doesn't really matter, and that barely an hour is not enough resting time for him, and yet, there is something sincere in his captain's eyes that prevented him from dodging. He bit his lower lips, and felt like he was once again a child waiting to be scolded by the nice man who took him away from the horrible life before him; guiltily, heavily, stomach turning, "Days? I can't remember now,"

The massive hand on his head slid down to envelope his entire back, patting it like a parent would to comfort their offspring. Whitebeard sighed, "Marco," he said softly yet sternly, and he hadn't heard his name being uttered in that tone for such a long time, not since he was a young teenager who was way over his head, reckless and with something to prove, "Son, you did your best. But some things are inevitable,"

"Pops…,"

"No, you need to listen now," the finality in that voice silenced him, as the captain continued, "No man is an island, Marco,"

Despite the heaviness in his chest, Marco still found it in himself to smile, "I don't know, Pops, you always seems big enough to be one,"

The back of his head was tapped by giant fingers, and Whitebeard cackled, "Cheeky brat," his laughter faded, but his smile was ever present, patient and caring, "No matter what will happen in the future, some things are inevitable. And when the inevitable comes, you need to know that you have people around you, good people that you can rely on. Your brothers, your _nakama_ ," Whitebeard paused, and cracked a little teasing smile, "Ace,"

Marco rolled his eyes, "I swear, i think everyone used him as a footnote against me today,"

'Then everyone knows what is the easiest way to make you listen," the old man laughed uproariously, "Everyone on board were there to watch and root for the two of you while you fumble your way into this relationship. They can tell how much he meant to you," he smiled, with less humour and more parental tone to it, "Because they all loves you as much as i do,"

The top of his head was ruffled by the same finger that smacked him earlier, running down the tuft of blonde on top of his head and down to his face, where a single tear slipped away involuntarily. He didn't want to imagine that finger and comforting hand not being there to hold him up one day, to guide him like right now. As far as Marco's concerned, the moment it disappears, it won't matter if time still goes on, it will stop for him the minute it was gone from his life.

So he said, in a little voice not unlike his child self from 20 odd years ago, in the midst of rowing sea and thundering sky, to the same man he had uttered it to, "I'm scared, dad,"

The reply that was given to him rang the same as that day, "I know you do. I'm proud of you for holding on,"

* * *

"He didn't come, i told you he wouldn't,"

"But, but i told him,"

"It's not your fault, Haruta. Maybe Marco just needs more space," a despondent sigh, followed by several others from several different people, "Still, kinda suck since i went through the trouble of making—"

The door was opened, and the chatter inside of the dining room died a quick death.

Plenty of seats has been vacated, a sign that dinner was nearing the end, but the Commanders' table were full with everyone huddled around the same spot, everyone whose head shot up and turned to the doorway nearly at the same time. In silence, Marco made his way over to his usual spot, which was exactly the place where everyone was swarming around.

Curiel and Jiru stepped back to let through, and just then he saw a prepared plate on his table, even decorated as if specially made for him. He didn't even need to sit down to even know that it was, like Haruta said, his favourite: Cured fatty fish, powdered with what looks like chopped herbs and various seasonings. He wasn't familiar with the type of fish, although it's not hard to guess that it came from this island's ecosystem, but he didn't even question it as he sat down.

Right across of him sat Ace, eyes downcast and hands obviously fidgeting under the table. He wrung his hands one more time, and when someone finally spoke it wasn't him, but Thatch behind him, "So uh, we all kind of talk it out," he started, voice cheery but the apprehensive undertone was just as prominent, "And… well, Marco, we want you to take the day off tomorrow,"

"In fact, since the storm's going to stay for another couple of days, we think that you should take some time off the entire time we're here," Kingdew added, somewhere from the outer ring of people, "We can't really go anywhere with the tide so unpredictable. The observatory's roof will be alright with what we have now from this island as well, so we're in no rush. Right, Fossa?" he jabbed the man to his side, who grunted after giving him a short glare.

"Yeah, what he said. It's nothing big, but it should protect it long enough while we gave it some reparation here and there,"

"Right now, some newcomer over in North Blue is making ruckus for the marines," It was Izou's voice, who made his appearance by shoving Thatch backward and give him enough space, "That's the news i got from our allies, anyway. At any rate, staying here might also be good for us to keep out from their radar,"

"I can form the expedition party myself, don't worry," Jiru piped up, "Namur's helping me with it, he said he's familiar with the area. There's supposedly a lot of fishmen there, so we'll be working together. Who knows, maybe if they know we're protecting The Fishman Island, they'd be more generous about us being there," Next to him Namur nodded, munching on food from a plate with the same content as Marco's, and with the same amount of vigour as Ace would have.

"Anything else you have on your desk right now, just leave it," Jozu crossed his arms, glancing to the papers Marco had brought with him, "I talked to Pops earlier, and he agrees. None of it was urgent, and anything that might be can be handled by us. Unless it's navigating stuff, but then we're not even going anywhere right now, and the guys up there can do things by themselves. You don't have to worry about a thing, because right now, nothing is more urgent for you than getting some well deserved rest,"

Nobody else added anything after he finished speaking, and in the ensuing silence, neither did Marco.

As each commander looked around each other worriedly, Ace leaned forward on his seat, eyebrows pulled in concern, "Marco? What do you think? You're… okay with this, right?"

Marco didn't reply.

Ace bit his lower lips, clearly worried, "Look, we did all of this because we wanted you to take it easy, okay? You need to get some re— Marco!"

It was a good thing that plenty of people were right behind him, as Marco's eyes suddenly rolled back and he fell limp on his seat.

* * *

Marco woke up to a sweet, aromatic smell permeating his surrounding, and after a few more seconds of gathering his thoughts, to gentle, if rather wet caressing on his chest.

He opened his eyes and immediately recognize his bedroom's ceilings, with more light than usual, and closer than usual. The caressing on his chest made him look down, to see a pair of hand rubbing in circular motions down his torso, and attached to said hands, seated on his lap was Ace. The blonde blinked a couple of times, took a deep breath only to get a lungful of the sweet and aromatic scent, "What happened?"

"You crashed," Ace told him without looking up from his slow motions, tracing up his rib area and massaging with his thumb. It was strangely relaxing, if not sensual, "You haven't been asleep for days so your body just gave out,"

He slide his slipper hand up to Marco's chest and on to his shoulders, pressing on hard muscles and making the older groaned. This close, Marco could recognize the smell of flowers coming from whatever substance was being used on his body, and from the heated sensation - apart from Ace's hand - he recognize it as massaging oil. Ace's thumb ran down his clavicle, body bowed slightly to be able to reach without moving from his seat, "How are you feeling now?"

"Like i can appreciate you for my entire life if you do that again to my shoulder," and he actually meant that, because it was heavenly, with the right pressure on the right spots, both painful yet pleasurable at the same time, even if he winced when he heard his bones creaking the next time Ace pressed down on the same spot, "Holy shit,"

Above him, Ace giggled, lowering his body down so their chest met, "This is going to feel a lot better with you on your front. I can do it down your shoulder-blades and that's where all of the stiffness are,"

That sounded incredibly tempting, but Marco didn't move - not that he could with Ace on top of him - only looking straight at the younger male, "What's this all about then?"

The hint of smile on the dark haired male's face slowly disappeared, his eyes turning downcast, "I wanted to apologize,"

The warmth around the room felt like it lowered for a brief moment there. Marco sighed, lifting one hand up to wind it through the younger's dark tresses, "I should be apologizing to you," he said in a low murmur, "I'm sorry for saying all of that and for shouting at you like that. It wasn't even that important,"

"It's not just about the paper, though i'm sorry for that too," the hands on his shoulder tightened their grip, without the intent to massage, "I should've been more attentive. I let you go night by night without sleeping, i didn't even make the effort to have you get some rest, even when i'm literally sleeping in the same bed with you," he sighed, lips forming into a moue before he laid his head on top of Marco's oil-slicked chest, "I've been a horrible boyfriend not to notice you've been overworking yourself,"

"Hey, hey," with the hand not knotted in Ace's hair, Marco patted his head, running it down to the younger's tattooed back, "You're not. You've been wonderful to me, i'm sorry i made you wake up alone these last few days,"

Ace shook his head, making several lock of his hair to be dipped in the oil as well and ended up damp, before he lifted his head up to meet with Marco's gaze. His cheek was now also smattered with translucent oil, his hair clinging to the skin, "I don't care. I just want to know if you're alright,"

Marco smiled, the hand on Ace's back rising up to the back of the younger's head to pull him close enough to a kiss. Ace leaned in halfway, eagerly meeting his lips and if their kiss was filled with slippery and flowery oil, Marco's hardly complaining.

It's been a while since they last had sex, the last time being that unfortunately interrupted quickie down in the storage room when Vista caught them. It was rather hilarious to think about now, when Ace couldn't stop moaning to warn him about the wide eyed accidental voyeur on the door, and Marco kept taking his stutters as a sign to go faster. It was even more hilarious still that Vista was accompanied by Haruta and Namur, both who won't stop screaming 'Ass and dicks! So many naked ass and dicks! Aagh!' until it basically informed the entire ship what they are doing.

Remembering that particular moment caused Marco to laugh against Ace's lips, who drew back with a confused expression, "What's so funny?"

The blonde giggled even more, "Just about the last time we had sex,"

Ace seems at lost until he widened his eyes and redness began to creep from his neck to his face. He slapped the side of Marco's arm, "That was traumatizing! More people than i care about saw your dick in my ass, it was mortifying!" he pouted, jutting his lips even harder when Marco couldn't stop laughing, "Besides, no sex yet. I want to give you a full body massage first, did you feel how hard your muscles are? There's so much tension just on your shoulders alone,"

Ah, now that he mention it, sex is good, but those hands on his shoulders had been _heavenly._

Still, "No sex _yet_?"

Even with his face still blushing, Ace gave him a little smirk, and pressed another kiss to the tip of Marco's nose, "Yet. Now turn around and lay on your stomach, i'll give you one hell of a massage,"

* * *

Funnily enough, it wasn't a euphemism.

This is seriously not where this story was supposed to go at first but eh, i kinda liked it.

Tell me what you think and thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

i don't know man. i don't know

* * *

And one hell of a massage it indeed was.

Marco didn't even know how tired and tense he actually was until Ace's magical hands unraveled it all, kneading and pressing in all the right points. The amount of cracking from his bones and spine was almost worrying if it didn't feel so relieving. Just by putting his entire weight on pressing Marco's shoulder-blades caused multiple popping and cracking, and by then, the younger man couldn't stifle his laughter.

"You really are an old man," he snickered, using the back of his palm to press down on the same spot and making the older man grunt. "I guess regeneration can't really do much about aching joints and stiff shoulders, huh? Could've helped a lot in your advanced age,"

He would've made a snappy comeback if Ace wasn't currently placing his heated hand on a spot that made his head feels light in relaxation, so Marco's reply comes in the form of lifting his leg and kicking him on the back.

"Okay, okay, geez, no more old jokes," the apparently expert masseuse giggled, catching the kicking leg with his free hand and pressing a thumb down the hollow arch of said foot. It causes an unexpected jolting pain, and the leg jerked in reflex, "Oh, you poor man. That's what you get for skipping meals so much. That means something's wrong with your digestion system, but don't worry, i'll get to that later,"

Burying his face further to the pillow, Marco could only groan, "How the hell did you know all this stuff? Or get so good at this?"

Even without looking behind him, Marco could feel the smug aura radiating off his lover, especially so, when he felt a light kiss on the back of his head followed by a cheery "Thanks! My caretaker back home often got back pains, so when we were smaller, she'd lie down and have Luffy, Sabo or myself walk up and down her back slowly. When we got too heavy for her, she taught us about all of this stuff so we can massage her anytime she wanted. I think it's one of the reason why she still kept us around growing up," The young man on his back chuckled, pressing yet again to the sore patch on his back, "Did it feel that good?"

"I feel like i can fall asleep at any time,"

"Well, nothing's stopping you. You're supposed to relax, after all,"

So Marco did, even if the cracking and sudden jolting pain would alert him every once in a while. The aromatic smell from the massaging oil felt like a rocking that sends him to sleep while Ace expertly drifted all over his back and down his waist, seemingly seeping away every pain and letting all of his nerves loose. In that moment, even the raging storm outside was out of his mind and concern, only feeling the hands - is that an elbow, just now? - going down to his thighs, legs, and feet, alternating between squeezing and pressing down.

It was to pinching sensation on his toes and Ace's soft humming that he finally closed his eyes, breathing slowing down and falling to slumber.

* * *

It had been the kisses down his back that woke him up, body feeling loose and limber, his mind floating between sleepiness and keeping his consciousness. He found that he was now lacking pants, leaving him completely bare, and Ace had moved away from sitting on his back, though he can still feel someone moving around next to him on the bed. As he let out a questioning hum, Marco felt one of the hands on the top of his thigh wander up to his waist, almost hesitantly, before it shoved itself between the sheet and his body. He lifted his hips up a little, giving the hand some space to move around, and gasped when it reached for his slowly hardening member.

Looking back in his current position doesn't reveal much other than a peek of Ace's dark hair, but he heard the younger inhaling before the hand on his cock began pumping slowly and in slow, unsure strokes. Yet as it is, it was enough to make Marco bow his back even further, pushing himself higher from the bed before thrusting to the hand gripping him, "Fuck," he breathed with a shudder, feeling the hand growing daring at his reaction.

"Is this… okay?" Ace's voice broke through the rushing of his own blood in his ear, as breathless as Marco felt, "You feel good, right?"

In lieu of a response, Marco simply groaned and bucked against the hand. He whined a little when the grip around his cock suddenly went loose, only to come back in a more appropriate angle with the heat and hold that enveloped him to the base, feeling thumb pressing down tentatively at his leaking slit. He gasped and began thrusting, meeting every movement in time, lifting his back higher and higher until he bended his knees on the bed.

"Faster," the blonde gasped, groaning and burying his face to his folded arms when Ace complied, even gripping and experimentally twisting his hand, "Fuck, Ace, i'm close, just keep doing that,"

"O-okay," Ace mumbled, twisting his hand again and fishing out a pleasured groan from the older.

Through the jolts of sensation, Marco was still aware of Ace shifting behind him, his free hand rubbing the side of his rib and waist, and down to his thigh. The hand kept moving in a soft, ticklish way, hesitating a couple of times, as it reached his upper thigh and just beneath the swell of his rear, before it moved back up to his hips. As the pumping on his cock began to pick up speed and the pooling heat in his lower stomach signalled his impending release, Marco briefly lost track of Ace's hand, until he felt it, its entirety still damp from the massaging oil placed on top of his ass and a thumb shakily probed his opening.

He came with a hitched moan, hips lurching to the front and back pressing against the thumb again. Yet it was already gone, along with the hand on his ass and accompanied with a little 'eep!' from Ace.

Marco lost his balance and fell down on the bed, top half to his side and bottom half his front, still panting. He opened his eyes, and through the fog still present on his vision, saw Ace looking down at him with a fully blushing face and a look of awe.

"What," he panted, trying to keep the grin from his face when Ace jumped at his voice, "What were you trying to do just now?"

If it's possible, Ace turned even redder, "I—i… uh," he bit his lower lips, cheeks puffing because of the gesture, "I want to… want to make you feel good and do the things you did that makes me feel good," his volume died down with each word, while the intensity of his blush seems to increase at the same time. Despite the erotic situation, Marco can't help but to feel fondness and deep affection growing in his chest, especially when Ace took a glance at him before looking away, whining, "Stop looking at me like that! I'm trying, okay? I never— never…,"

"Never take initiative?"

"Hey! I did once in a while!" he insisted, briefly losing his shyness before it came back full force with a stutter, "I… I just never been… well…,"

Ah, he knows where this is going. Marco grinned even wider, finding that he wasn't quite oppose to the idea, after all, "Never been on top?"

The groan that Ace let out was high pitched and full of embarrassment, and Marco could never stop marvelling that. Portgas D. Ace, Whitebeard's Second Division Commander, Ex-captain of Spade Pirates, one of the most feared pirates in the sea, can turned more flustered than a teenager out of puberty when it comes to discussing or partaking in anything sexual. It would never stop being funny during gatherings with other commanders and crews, it was amusing during their foreplays, and it was goddamn arousing when he's underneath Marco, panting and sobbing. And as he discovered now, it was still just as arousing the other way around.

The older man decided to turn himself to his front, laying on his back and bending one of his knees while spreading the other. It was admittedly rather uncomfortable, due to the wet patch underneath his back where he had cum on, but the sensation was promptly forgotten the moment he saw Ace turning slack-jawed.

At the expression, Marco chuckled, "Well then, go on, Ace," he purred, spreading his legs a bit further, "Make me feel good,"

Oh, if only he had a recording DenDen Mushi somewhere handy, because the look on Ace's face was something he needs to immortalised. Full of anticipation, awe, joy, and underneath it all palpable anxiety, an expression he didn't lose even as he slowly and apprehensively moved between the blonde's legs. The redness on his face spreads the lower his eyes went, and with one deep breath to calm himself, his lips were set into a determined line.

The first thing he did was to initiate a kiss, slow and passionate, and Marco has to give points for going for familiar grounds first. He let him lead the kiss as well, feeling little nips on his lower lips and a tentative tongue poking inside of his cavern. In the sensual haze, a small portion of his mind informed him of a wandering hand down his chest, and persistent fingers that was brought him to relaxation earlier gently but daringly flicking on his nipple.

Above him, Ace frowned, eyes still closed, and the deeper his frown become, the more persistent the pinching on his chest become. In the end, the kiss was ended by Ace, who looked down to his chest in apparent confusion, "Huh?"

"What?"

Dark hair made a fluttery wave with how fast Ace raised his head to face him again, still frowning and fingers still pinching on Marco's now admittedly rather aching bud, "Am… am i doing something wrong?" he asked, "How come you're not…," he trailed off, eyes going back down to the nipple between his fingers.

His face grew even more distressed with the lack of result, and it was then it finally dawned on Marco, and it took the blonde's entire being not to laugh out loud, "Alright, rule number one in sex, not everyone is sensitive in the same place. Just because i can make you come by just playing and sucking on your sensitive nipples, doesn't mean you can do the same to me,"

The blush was back on Ace's face, the colour accentuating his cheeks, "D-don't make it sound like this is some lesson! And don't remind me of that, that was embarrassing!"

For him, maybe. For Marco, that one had been a top 5 jerk off materials for whenever they're apart.

He didn't say that, of course, and instead reached up for Ace's upper arm to pull him back on top of him to pull him to a kiss. As he distracted the younger, he pulled on the hand away from his chest - because those pinches actually hurts, so even people with sensitive nipple probably won't find pleasure in it anyway - and guide it through his hair in a clutching position. Ace made a confused hum against his lips, eyes immediately went to their mingle hands once the kiss ended.

"You don't have to think too hard. No matter which position you're in, sex is just about the instinct," the blonde assured him with a murmur, kissing down from his freckled cheek and to the juncture of his neck, where he paused and smiled, "Besides, i'm pretty sure you have some ideas about where i'm sensitive,"

Marco's position doesn't allow him to see Ace's face, but he could hear the shuddering breath and the stuttering in the younger's chest against his own.

And Ace did, because the hands in his hair tugged, gently at first before they got bolder, pulling and tilting his head back to allow Ace a wide access to his neck, where he began biting and kissing, scraping his teeth on the slick skin. Marco gasped, the corners of his lips curling upwards in satisfaction.

With the intensity that Ace puts in biting his shoulder and the crook of his neck, Marco could only expect it when blue flames started flaring from his skin, framing Ace and his undeterred attempt to mark him. Marco could feel him growing hard - actually feel him, and wondered when did the younger stripped himself as well - bucking against his navel and his own erection. The brush against their sensitive organ made him groan again, while Ace gasped against his ears.

"Marco," the dark haired youth panted, already sounding like he barely need anymore foreplays, "I want to… C-can i please…,"

How adorable, the older thought, tilting his head to the side to give a short peck on the side of his sweaty temple, "I told you, don't i?" he whispered, before bucking his hips up to meet Ace's and wrapping his legs around his slim waist. He moaned, dropping his forehead to Marco's shoulder, "Just go and make me feel good,"

Ace sat up, face flushed and licking his lower lips. He pried away the legs around his waist, gingerly pushing them and spreading them far enough that Marco knew he was fully exposed to those clouded, lustful dark orbs. It felt like it's been forever since he was in this position, and the anticipation was making him excited, especially knowing that the person between his legs was not some random stranger like it used to be, but someone he implicitly cares about, his own lover. He's sure Ace could see from the way his cock jolted.

Gulping, the dark haired commander reached over for the massage oil bottle, with only a quarter of the content left and spilling half of it to his palm. He lathered his fingers with it, his movement slow and almost unconsciously teasing that should it be anyone else, Marco would resent them for obviously making him wait. But this is Ace, whose nervousness was as palpable as his arousal, so he waited patiently, until the young man finally gathered himself and hovered above him again, "Okay, so… i'm putting one in, okay?"

Any other time, Marco would laugh at the irony. He remembered the first time they got together and become intimate, when he had warned Ace of the same thing. The younger had berated him for telling him, saying that he didn't need to be told because of how embarrassing it is. He kept doing it with each finger after all, because he relished the sight of Ace blushing and stammering.

Marco gave him a lopsided smile, trying not to sigh at the finger pressed against his entrance, "I got a better idea. How about you start with two?"

The result was instant. Ace's apparent bashfulness was expected, but what made Marco wanted to groan was the equally apparent lust. He gulped, so loudly in the dead silence in the room, and finally nodded rapidly and wordlessly. The finger against his hole's opening indeed became two, and they pressed in, slowly and torturously that Marco moaned and tossed his head to the side.

They were almost pulled out again, the jerk of the motion made him gasp and the rushing blood almost drown out Ace's panicked, "O-oh! Did i hurt you?! I'm sorry! I mean… why did you say i should start with—"

"Ace, it's fine, i'm fine," he actually felt bad for a brief moment hearing the concern in the younger's voice, but who can blame him? It really has been a while, "I just forgot what it felt like, that's all,"

The fingers was once again pushed inside of him, the burning and heat against his walls so distantly familiar that it brought a jolt of pleasure to Marco's spine. Ace started to move deeper, probably encouraged by his assurance and reaction, fingers aren't as deft as they were on his body but active nonetheless. It curled slightly, obviously something else he learned from Marco, but unlike the older man, it bore no result. He retracted the fingers slightly and began pressing in again, curling and wiggling incessantly.

Marco let out a breathy laugh. He knew what Ace was trying to do, could even see it from his deep concentration and the way he kept looking away from his fingers inside of Marco to Marco's face. He spread his fingers, twisting them slightly and making the blonde groan, curling them again and finally pressing upwards and downwards. They were all enough to make the older sigh at the small waves of pleasure it gave, but they were obviously not what Ace was looking for and it was starting to make Marco impatient.

With one deep breath, the first division commander sat up, propping himself up with one elbow and using his other hand to reach down to where him and Ace were connected. He wiped his fingers on his thigh, where it's still rather damp from the oil, and ignoring Ace's baffled 'what are you doing?' placed his hand right next to the younger's smaller and significantly tanner hand before pushing two of his own fingers inside of his already stretched hole.

"Fuck," they both cursed, Ace out of surprise and Marco because of the sudden pressure, tossing his head back slightly before taking several deep breaths to compose himself. The sting was still persistent in his system as he nudged Ace's fingers, pushing it closer to a spot Ace had failed to find, pushing himself even more upward and spreading his legs further until they can both reach it. He found it the moment the stinging pain died, and pressed the younger's fingers against the bundle of nerves inside of him.

"Aah!"

Even Marco hadn't expected the onslaught of pleasure that gave him, his elbow almost giving out and his back grew taut. He squeezed his eyes close, panting and riding out the waves of gratification.

Which turned out to be a mistake, because Ace decided to use that moment to press against his prostate again, hard.

Marco fell back to the bed, his own fingers slipping out of him and between that and the press against his bundle of nerved made him squirm and moan. Ace's pace slowly grows, unforgiving in his assault, and whether it was done on purpose or not, Marco couldn't tell. His legs were starting to quiver, his chest falling up and down rapidly with his pants, head tossed backwards as Ace picked up the pace.

"A-another," the blonde whimpered, head still tossed back and voice raspy, "Another f-f.. another finger, please—"

Again, he was stretched by another finger, with less pressure than his own two, but the addition of a third inside of him, pressing on his nerves was _intense_. Marco moaned in abandon, hips jerking and moving along with the fingers inside of him and feeling like he couldn't catch his breath as the familiar pooling sensation on his stomach began to gather. He's not going to last long, he's not going to last long, it felt so _good—_

He came with a shout, cum smattering his stomach, but the press against his prostate did not falter. It seems to pick up even more, no longer jabbing but pressing down hard while rubbing incessantly. Still high from his orgasm, all Marco could do was whimper and gasp, the overstimulation making his entire body tingle and eyes foggy.

"Ace,' he called out with a mewl, almost sobbing when the fingers indeed won't stop and it began to hurt, "Ace, stop—"

But Ace didn't, and he figured out why when he saw that the younger man had his eyes closed, sweat trickling down his forehead and mouth open with, his other hand vigorously pumping on his reddened cock. His hands were moving in tune with each other, and when he came, drenching his front and the bed, the fingers inside of Marco jerked painfully against his abused prostate and made him gasp, from both the pain and the sight.

Ace panted loudly, chest heaving, and once he finally calm down, he opened his eyes once more and almost immediately widened his eyes, "Shit! I'm sorry, i'm sorry, i was— I—" He pulled out his fingers out of Marco with a brutal jerk, making a loud, wet pop on his exit and making the older jerk at the motion, "Oh no, fuck i didn't mean— Ugh, i'm so bad at this—"

Marco wanted to calm him down, he really does, but his waist still feels dead, and the lightheaded sensation hasn't gone away.

When he finally gathered himself, Marco looked down to where Ace was, and found intense dark orbs looking at him. It was no longer nervous or hesitant, but his eyes were filled with want, made evident with the gulp and of course, the fact that he's already slowly growing hard again. Marco scoffed internally, goddamn hormonal youths and their short refractory period.

Still, he thought again as he glanced down to Ace's half-mast, the black tendrils of hair on the base still stained with his earlier cum, they're not quite done yet, are they?

He didn't think he'd be hard just yet, but Ace's obviously aroused expression told Marco he couldn't exactly wait long. Taking a deep breath, Marco raised his legs up again and spread them, the movement immediately gaining the younger's attention, "Go on then," he said, "I'm not relaxed just yet,"

If Ace can tell he was still tired, he didn't show it, but Marco's pretty sure he didn't. The strangled cry from the depth of the dark haired male's throat told him that he couldn't see past how horny he is already, because the moment he climbed on top of Marco, holding his legs spread, the half-mast from earlier had grown to be a full on erection. Was the prospect of topping really turning him on so much?

Instead of getting on with it, Ace crawled above him and pulled him into another kiss, this time lot more sloppy and urgent. He only became like this when he's really enthused even bordering on impatient, "Look at you," the freckled male whispered, his low raspy voice sending Marco's blood rushing down yet again, "You're always so fucking beautiful, but look at you now. If this is what you'll look under me then i want to do this again and again, make you come from my fingers and on my cock, want to make you feel as good as you always made me,"

Ace being chatty during sex was nothing new, but this is truly something else. There's something dangerous in those eyes, fiery and burning Marco to his core, making him shiver in anticipation. And if this is what he'll look like above Marco, he'll welcome a repeat performance any other day.

But of course, he's not making it that easy.

The older man leaned up for another kiss, looping both legs around the younger's waist and bucking his hips up. His stretched hole is quivering as it pressed against hard arousal, and he made sure Ace could feel it too, "How about you make me come on your cock first before we talk about next time?"

Ace never backs down from a challenge, he knows. And from the way those eyes were gazing into his, he also knows the young man will try his hardest to pass with flying colours.

Gone was any nervousness and meekness, because the way Ace pushed into him was confident and precise. Marco hadn't even finished adjusting to the size shoved into him when Ace already started moving, rolling his hips against the older's ass, and pulling back halfway to push in again, "Ooh, you're so tight," he heard Ace moan as he continues to thrust into his heat. His movement was uncoordinated, his thrust inconsistent and frantic, befitting an amateur, but his passion and determination more than made up for it.

The entire bed shook, their headboard slamming against the wall behind him, and Marco could only briefly wonder if Jozu was in his room or had smartly moved away when Ace gave in a hard thrust and he throws his head back with a loud moan. His legs was pried away again, with both of Ace's hand holding the back of his knees, lifting his legs and making it harder for him to push against Ace's thrust.

Then, before he realized what was happening, both of his legs were pushed back, bending him in half as the dark haired male sat up even more on his knee and delivered down deeper and harsher thrust.

"A-ace, Ace, it's— Aah, fuck, there! Right there!"

The head of Ace's cock hits dead on against his bundle of nerves, and it sent Marco's back arching. Between them, his own hard cock was bobbing along with Ace's every thrust and grazing his stomach, adding even more to the overwhelming sensation that invaded all of his senses. Marco couldn't think, couldn't even pay attention to anything but gripping onto the bed harder and moaning and calling for Ace's name in abandon.

In that seemingly never ending and heightened gratification, suddenly, the thrusting stuttered, "No, don't want to come yet," he heard Ace sobbed above him, his movement slowing down and eventually falling to a stop, making Marco whine in dissatisfaction, "Still wanna be in you, want to— want to make you come first,"

The gripping pleasure inside of him was slowly starting to subside, and but before Marco could complain, one of Ace's hand left his legs and gripped on his aching arousal, and he let out a keening noise from the back of his throat. Ace's pump was as brutal as his thrusting, moving with a speed that would've made him chaffed if it wasn't for the generous amount of massage oil on both of their bodies.

It was all too much for Marco, the multiple stimulation were too much. Ace pushed against his back, pushing him to bend even deeper, the sound of flesh slapping together and with one final twist of his hand, the commander came with a shaky and loud scream, so loud the entire Moby Dick probably heard him. It wasn't even a second later that Ace exploded inside of him, letting out a strangled and stuttered cry, as if his own orgasm had shocked him.

* * *

"Holy shit," the dark haired male gasped, his vision still white from his intense come, sitting up limply and staring up to the ceiling. That was unbelievable, he felt like a cord was just broke from some unknown tension inside of him the moment Marco gripped him with an impossible tightness. It had been so surprising and unexpected, and if this is how Marco felt every time he made Ace come, then no wonder he was always on top.

Once he could feel his cock growing soft and his body was no longer wrecked in intensity, Ace looked down, and could only blink through his sweat drenched bangs.

Marco's chest, spattered with cum and oil was still rising and lowering heavily, but the man himself seems to have passed out, head limp on his pillow and his fingers only twitching every now and then. He barely reacted as Ace lowered his legs back to the bed, massaging his thigh gently to see if he can elicit a reaction out of him but gained nothing.

After a while, when the man's chest began to even out, he concluded that yes, Marco really has passed out.

Ace couldn't help the little laugh that bubbled from his chest, "Am i really that good?" he asked quietly in a joking tone, not wanting to risk the older actually waking up. He looked so peaceful, despite all the lewd substances on his skin and dripping out of his hole when Ace pulled out. He wiped them down with the towel he had set aside beforehand, pressing a soft peck to the side of the older's sweaty temple and smiling when he heard quiet snores escaping him, "Then again, maybe you're just that tired. Stupid,"

Once he was done with cleaning the two of them, the dark haired commander tossed the towel away and laid down to his side and put his head down on his slumbering lover's chest, sighing in contentment. He could hear Marco's heartbeat beating fast - even if it's slowly losing speed - and grinned cheekily. Heh, maybe tomorrow he can tell Marco he fucked him until he fainted and he'll get to top again next time. It was actually pretty fun.

Oh well, they can talk about it some other time.

"Hope you feel better tomorrow," Ace murmured against tattooed chest, smiling as he himself slowly drifted into deep slumber.

* * *

I actually like to massage people and get massages. It's relaxing. Esp with the hot stones. Actually, won't Ace giving massage is just like getting a hot stone massages?

Imagine that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! I get the feeling that i'm not very good in the whole writing smut thing because whenever i read it back it always become so... short and vague? Idk how to explain. Just let me know what you think and hope you liked it!


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